Another Mentalist Mistletoe Fic
by Donnamour1969
Summary: The title speaks for itself, I suppose. Silly, fluffy, Christmastime fun with a hint of Jisbon.


A/N: So I succumbed to peer pressure over on Twitter (Nerwen Aldarion and Brown Eyes Parker, you know who you are), and jumped onto the mistletoe bandwagon. This is silly and fluffy, and would never in a million years happen on the show. But that's what fanfiction is for, right? Especially Christmas mistletoe fanfiction. I hope my little fic warms your day.

**Another **_**Mentalist**_** Mistletoe Fic**

'_Twas the day before Christmas, when all through the CBI bullpen, not a creature was stirring—well, maybe Van Pelt._

Christmas Eve.

Lisbon rose from her office computer and stretched. She glanced at the clock to see with surprise that it was past lunchtime. She'd been working all morning to try to finish as much paperwork as she could before the office was closed down at three for the holiday, and she hadn't realized how much time had passed. A coffee break was more than in order, and maybe someone had left some Christmas cookies in the break room she could snack on—no time for lunch today.

But as she walked past the bullpen, she noticed that it was eerily silent. Everyone was gone! The faint tapping of a keyboard caught her ear and she walked into the room to find Van Pelt, hard at work on her own computer.

"Hey," said Lisbon. "Where'd everybody go? Quitting time isn't until three…"

"Oh, hi Boss. They're likely all down in the lobby."

"What? Why? Is there some kind of drill?"

Van Pelt smirked. "Nope."

"Well, what is it then?" Lisbon asked impatiently.

Van Pelt shrugged. "I really can't explain it, Boss. You'll just have to go down and see it for yourself. Even then, you may not believe it."

"Why are you still here if this—whatever it is, is so unbelievable?"

"Oh, I was there for awhile. I put in my time. I've got a plane to catch later though, so I'm trying to finish up my report on the Maynard case."

"Well, I don't have time to be playing games, and if I'm not mistaken, Rigsby and Cho didn't get me their reports yet either."

"You want me to call them back up here?" Van Pelt asked helpfully, reaching for her cell phone.

"No, I'll do it. I'm glad to see somebody around here is taking their job seriously. I'm surprised they don't all have couches by now. Whatever it is must be Jane's bad influence again."

Van Pelt laughed mysteriously. "You may be right."

Lisbon shook her head and brought out her own phone, but she paused, considering. She was a detective after all, and curiosity was ingrained in her nature. What was so exciting that it had cleared out the entire floor? She had to see for herself. Re-pocketing her cell phone, she walked determinedly to the elevator.

Long before the elevator door opened to the lobby, she could hear the sounds of laughter and a milling crowd. The sight that greeted her was even more incredible than Van Pelt had led on.

"What the hell-?"

"Agent Lisbon!" said a woman she recognized from Vice. "Come to partake of some Christmas cheer?"

"Huh?"

The woman only laughed and wandered over to stand in the long line that stretched from the entryway right after Security, past Reception, then down the hall, almost to Shettrick's office in PR.

At the head of the line she could only see a cluster of laughing women and the top of the Santa-hatted Patrick Jane. She bypassed the line and walked all the way to the front, where she spied Cho sitting at a table, taking money, and Rigsby doing crowd control, at the same time calling for new patrons. They looked at her sheepishly, realizing there would be hell to pay now for their truancy.

"Hey, Lisbon, no cutting!" called a lady behind her.

"I imagine she doesn't have to pay for it anyway," said the man next in line.

Cho simply shrugged and nodded to the sign at his left.

_Donate to the Children of Fallen Agents Fund. Kiss an agent under the mistletoe! $5 for a kiss on the cheek. $20 for a peck on the lips. $100—ooh la la!_

Lisbon's eyes widened in utter shock, her focus going from the large cluster of mistletoe hanging above the Christmas wrapped kissing booth to the consultant doling out the kisses, replete with the silly plush Santa hat perched upon his blond curls.

"Oh. My. God," she muttered to herself, as a middle-aged woman giddily gave Cho a crisp hundred-dollar bill.

"Why, Mrs. Pomeroy, you are so generous!" said Jane with that killer grin of his that made the women close enough to behold it nearly swoon with anticipation.

Jane leaned over the booth, pulling the woman closer as if they were the only two people in the world, and proceeded to kiss her within an inch of her life. Lisbon counted to ten, to twenty, before Jane released her, the look on the woman's face showing such ecstasy that Rigsby had to physically escort her to a nearby chair. The rest of the feminine spectators sighed with envy, especially those who only carried fives and twenties.

Jane caught sight of Lisbon then, and his grin widened even more.

"Care to make a donation, Agent Lisbon?"

She walked over to her consultant after first shooting Cho and Rigsby a look that would melt steel.

"What the hell is this?" she hissed to Jane. "Do you have permission to be prostituting yourself in the middle of the CBI lobby?"

Jane chuckled. "Sure. It was actually Bertram's idea. He volunteered Rigsby to do it, but let's just say donations were lacking. I think he made about twenty bucks. Cho took his turn, but his demeanor tends to scare the ladies, I'm afraid. How much did you make, Cho?" He called to his colleague.

"Ten dollars," said the man, without a tinge of embarrassment.

"Now, Van Pelt made three hundred before she begged off, and you can imagine the disappointment of the men when I volunteered to take over."

"Well, not all of them," commented Lisbon with a smirk, as she waved to the man in line five people down. Jane looked momentarily startled at the prospect, but he smiled and waved too, though with much less enthusiasm. Then the man waved a hundred enticingly, and Jane gulped. No one noticed Cho's brief grin.

"Well, it's all for a good cause," Jane said.

"Hey!" cried a paying customer. "Lunch hour's almost over. Could you two maybe continue this conversation later?"

"Yeah," called a few others. "Either pay the man or get out of the way."

Lisbon turned to the unruly line behind her, amazed at how lust-driven they all seemed. True, Jane's Robert Redford good looks and charm were legendary, but she never would have dreamed women would actually pay for his attentions. They obviously didn't know how infuriating he could be. Sort of like now.

"Well, Lisbon?" prompted Jane, and he took a small atomizer from his pocket, spraying his mouth with breath spray in invitation.

Lisbon blushed furiously, and the rest of the ladies, once word spread like wildfire that she was his boss, began chanting: "Kiss him! Kiss him! Kiss him!"

"No way," she said, shaking her head at Jane.

"Aw, come on, Lisbon. It's for the children." And he waggled his eyebrows at her in amusement at her embarrassment.

"You won't regret it, honey," said Mrs. Pomeroy from her chair, still fanning her heated cheeks.

"Go for it, Boss," said Rigsby with a grin. Cho merely shook his head, still amazed he'd agreed to be part of this crazy spectacle.

Her hand shaking amidst the rallying cry and the catcalls, she reached into her front pocket and triumphantly brought out a five-dollar bill.

"Sorry. That's all I have on me," she said.

Rigbsy took her money. "Sold!" he said gleefully, then his face fell at Lisbon's annoyed expression. "Uh, thanks, Boss."

The ladies in line applauded, and Lisbon stepped forward, squeezing her eyes shut and turning her cheek to Jane for the promised peck.

"I'm not giving you a flu shot," muttered Jane near her ear. "Relax."

She forced herself to settle down. Then, much to her amazement, she felt Jane's hand tenderly grasp her small chin. Her eyes opened to see his face much closer than she'd expected, and she inhaled in surprise as he lowered his lips to hers. He kissed her lips slowly, seductively, and when she opened her mouth to protest that she'd only paid for a kiss on the cheek, he used that opportunity to slip his tongue inside. He reached over the booth and pulled her closer, then, his warm hands settling on either of her rosy cheeks, he deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue with hers as Lisbon's head began to spin.

She lost track of time, but the kiss seemed to go on and on, as she only faintly heard the laughter and cheers surrounding them. Her world had narrowed down to the supreme beauty of that kiss, and she realized he kissed like he did most everything else—with expert manipulation. Reluctantly, he slowed his assault and released her mouth, but only to plant a warm, wet smooch on her flushed cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Lisbon," he whispered, his eyes sparkling at her.

Both of them were breathing rapidly, though Jane—damn the man—was able to hide it much more effectively. Good old Rigsby was there to steady her, but she shook off his helping hand almost violently. She managed to walk with quiet dignity back to the elevator amidst much laughter and renewed applause.

She caught Jane's eye again just as the elevator door was about to slide shut.

_I hate you, _she mouthed.

But he winked at her knowingly, the outrageous Santa hat shaking with his silent laughter.

**END**

A/N: Merry Christmas everybody!


End file.
